


I Watched a Yuri Anime with Lesbian Bears once and That Got Me Thinking

by GhostWorm



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Blenders, But he's a good friend, Crying, F/F, F/M, Gundham has bandages not only because of animal issues but because modifying cages are a lot of work, Hajime really deserves a good rest, Mikan Time. I wanna try and do a mindset study on characters, Modified trains, Rats, Sonia is such an interesting character and yet I don't have an idea for something her focused, Trains, mention of murders in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2020-11-02 12:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostWorm/pseuds/GhostWorm
Summary: I've done this before. Actual stories can be too much incoherency, so enjoy some snippets of things





	1. Just Tell Me You Hate Me (Mikan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh boy.

> She wanted Ibuki to leave.

Mikan wanted Ibuki to leave. To keep her everything away until any trace of her was a vague memory, almost near a dream.

She hated how she was addicted to her mere presence. How Ibuki being in the same room made her feel. How her head would go blank and jumble with everything all at once, so overwhelming it would spread to her legs and arms. Every look would make her ribs attempt to hug her lungs close, making her feel vulnerable and open. Ibuki’s laugh would always find ways to curl around her, showing how genuinely amused Ibuki was from her, and the pride would burn into her skin.

How Ibuki hurt her. How she smiled as Mikan trembled.

Her words were incoherent and always confusing, yet Mikan had never understood someone so clearly. Her passion was hot, for everything it burned and for Mikan, Ibuki says, it would probably be eternal.

Mikan wanted to touch her, to be close. To hold her hand, brush her hair back, and kiss every part of her. Yet, those were things she should never do. She yearns for something so greedy, so selfish.

So unthinkable for such a freak like herself. Mikan, so hated, could only hate one person and Ibuki cared for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't want to feel that way. Now with how you make yourself feel when you do.


	2. A Fortress for the Empire (Sonia/Gundham)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Future Foundation Let Gundham get a snake but then made the mistake of sending live rats instead of frozen rats. Now, the cage they sent had too big of a bar gap. This is set in a non-canon thing where they live on Jabberwock in order to get the therapy and help they need to recover.

> Gundham doesn’t even remember the sun setting.

Its light was done for the day, tired of playing hide and seek with the shifting curtains. So, he looked at the clock, affirming what the vicious glow of his lamp had already said. It’s currently midnight, at least eight hours from when they started. Though he doesn’t really remember when they started, it feels like they’ve been doing this for a long time. Eight hours is a long time. 

His hands were cramping, a dull ache springing alive in his joints with each squeeze of the pliers and twist of his wrist. His arms were stinging from the cuts the wire gently gave him. His tongue was dry and he couldn’t even recognize what episode of Sailor Moon they had on in the background. He could feel his stomach gnawing at his skin, deciding to take matters into its own hands. 

And they were almost done. 

He closed his eyes and sighed, deciding whether or not he should take his scarf off. It was sticking to his neck like how the threads had stuck to the wire mesh before he tucked the loose end. 

Yet, he would feel so vulnerable. 

And there was a gentle pressure on his shoulder, reminding him how vulnerable and Gundham smiled.  _ Almost done.  _

“Do you want to take a break?” Ah. The Dark Queen’s enchanting voice. A spell enchanting peace in his mind. His shoulders relaxed under her hand and he felt ready to open his eyes, but he didn’t. 

A break, as nice as it sounded, would do exactly as it promised. It would break his focus on this job. 

“The mistaken sacrifices can not obtain their true form if they are bound by such a small prison.” He grumbled out. Not at Sonia, of course, but at the blasted Future Foundation and their bumbling ignorance.

They wouldn’t have to modify a cage if the Foundation had sent a proper cage in the first place. A cage that rats couldn’t squeeze through. 

The hand left his shoulder, leaving him to frown slightly before he felt his fingers being manipulated through soft and plush ones. He had worried about her hands, such great wielders of magic, would end up as scarred as his were. However, she had reminded him just now that their magic would forever stay the same, no matter the damage. 

Gundham couldn’t help but look at her through the side of his eyes, subconsciously turning his body to face her. 

“We can’t modify the cage properly if we don’t have a proper head, but…” Sonia leaned forward and before Gundham knew it, he felt a wave of warmth originate from his cheek. “Considering all things, how about I go get us some water and a snack and you can keep focus?” 

Gundham sunk his face into his scarf, trying to conceal the giddy warmth in his cheek and body forever. Though as it wavered slightly, he cleared his throat in an attempt of composure. 

“I suppose the great princess is in need of a drink, as well as I, the great ruler. Very well, your agreement matches my requirements. Be off but there is no strike that shall be dreaded, wise one.” 

Sonia smiled and Gundham could vaguely remember the warmth they had missed. 


	3. Make it not Real (Sonia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonia tries to sleep but it always stops her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You either want something to make you feel nothing or nothing to make you feel something.

> Sonia tries to imagine the world outside her window. 

It’s an attempted distraction. Something that can blur out the explosion of bad, the icy needles that find themselves poking at skin that doesn’t feel like her own. Something that can stop the pillow-muffled sobs from existing. 

So, she’s pulling and pulling, looking for a time where she existed within her own skin. When she was something more than a bystander in the back of her mind. She holds a hope that maybe, just maybe, that memory would bring her back her own control. The control of her future Hajime promised. 

But as she pulls her own throat closes as she sees Hiyoko’s. Fresh in her mind, like the blood that was drying on her neck. The wound, Sonia can feel it ghost over her own neck. Her warm, running inflates and squeezes its blood, running hot and cold all the same. 

Her friend.

Dead. She’s dead. 

And Sonia’s alive. 

And Ibuki, she choked, suffocated. A rope wrung her of all her life. A wrung in the hands of her classmate. 

_ “Can Sonia keep a secret?” _

No. Not only by the hands of her own classmate. But by the hands of her friend... the hands of someone who gave her hope. 

And Sonia is done pulling. Yet, her mind continues to search, to try to remember. A hope, a life lived with secrets, hopes, and dreams, ended without fulfillment. 

“Togami”, Mahiru, Nekomaru, and even Nagito. 

All of them had hope. All of them her friends. Most of them didn’t choose to die and she was sure that, before anything ever happened, all of them had something they held onto. Something that made them keep on going. So, why?

_ Why did I have to be one of the ones to wake up? _

And her chest is heaving, picking her back off the mattress before dropping it back down. Her hair, wet with tears, tickles her face. Sending shivers that support the goosebumps on her skin. 

And so she tries to imagine nothing, Nothing. Black and vast. 

A nothing that swallows her whole and leaves her asleep forever. 

A single hand, warm and loving touches her cheek. And she wished it to stay the same way she wished it to join the nothing. 

She leans into the touch, willing away the death connected. Her hand traveling up bandages and tears, beginning to thin, pool where skin meets touch. 

She wants to pull him close. Feel his lips against hers, his body so close yet not enough. Improper and impure, yet pure and special with him. And she should have. Then it would have made her feel something. Something that made everything feel like truly nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...


	4. Blender Blunder: For Now (NDV3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kokichi gets a blender. Nothing more. Nothing less

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't fully watched V3. All I know is what I've picked up on.

> Kokichi wasn’t amused. Not in the least. 

“What kind of joke is this?” He examined his nails. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything more in such a stale circumstance. The lack of joy leads to a lack of energy. “Cause, to me, it seems like a lame one.” 

They were getting extremely long this time around. Which made him wonder what he should do if he got them to, let’s say, a quarter of an inch. It was much more thought-provoking than, let's say, the blender in front of him. W hich provided nothing more than a moment’s fleeting source of curiosity on this cool, early-autumn day.

“It’s not a joke.” Maki’s unmoving face stared at him, almost expecting some kind of gratitude. “It’s a present.” 

_ A present?  _ “Really?” 

Kokichi’s mouth opened into a smile like he— himself— finally understood he was getting an amazing gift. That he— himself— was truly being spoiled with good luck and timing. 

“For me?” Kokichi pressed a hand to his chest as his voice rose at each syllable. His eyes seemed to glimmer and shine under the sun’s light. “How’d you know it was my birthday?” 

“Kaito, don’t-”

“It’s your birthday?” Kaito asked. His stupid eyebrow raised and his stupid arms crossed. In fact, he was so stupid, Kokichi hadn’t even noticed him get ready to ask a question. 

Kokichi’s face dropped, lips returning to an unamused frown. His eyebrows furrowed and, unexpectedly, his bottom lip quivered.

“No. That was a lie.” 

And the groans and frustrated sighs he heard were the best gifts he's ever gotten. Perhaps this was their true gift. 

And within the ruckus, Kokichi could hear a voice that hoped to go unnoticed.

A mumbled, “Isn’t your birthday in a month?” from Shuichi. 

“Oh!” Kokichi clapped his hands together, leaning into them. Hearts were practically brimming in his eyes. “I knew my dearest emo boy would remember my birthday!” 

Nothing with Kokichi would go unnoticed. Not when it came to that detective. In fact, Kokichi might call himself the detective of the detective. He wound find every little riddle about him and uncover everything he wanted left alone.

“I wouldn’t say he’s your-” Then Kaito ruined it with his annoying voice that believed he had the right to speak. 

“Anyway, what the hell is this for?” Kokichi waved loosely, not actually caring for the answer, just hoping he could shut Kaito up.

Now, his brain just felt like fuzz as they gave whatever dumb reason they had. 

“Alright. Cool.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two is where I share inspiration


	5. Trains: Souda. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talent means you can do whatever the hell you want with it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know "My Trains" by Lemon Demon? Well, you do now. It sent me into some kind of thought spiral and I somehow ended here.

> Hajime didn’t know why or how Souda got to have a basement, but the fact he was allowing himself to be lead down into it felt like accidents were knocking at his door and he opened up with open arms. 

“You know, leading people into a basement without explanation is something a creep does, right?” Hajime felt the bags under his eyes grow heavier as Souda, who was already at the bottom of the stairs, sent a curse words into the air. He could see the outline of what happened in the dark and he was not impressed. The idiot almost tripped. 

“Oh very funny, Hajime.” Souda said in a very I’m-in-pain-but-I’m-trying-very-hard-to make-it seem-like-I’m-not voice. “That stupid idiot said the same thing, so quit it with the cynical cynicism and get your ass down here.” 

Hajime made no effort to increase his speed. 

“You brought Gundham down here?” 

Souda flipped the light switch, looking upon the basement as Hajime winced at the sudden light change. Sometimes it felt like Souda was trying to kill him. 

“Check it.” And Souda completely ignored the Gundam comment. 

Hajime’s slowly adjusted to the light, a deep bang in his head making him a bit dizzy. But when he was able to see again. Oh boy. 

Hajime wasn’t sure to be amazed or pinch himself. Row after row stood trains if you could even call them that anymore. In fact, calling them "just trains" seemed bravely modest. There were no exact words could all- fifteen?

Hajime counted them all. Yep. Fifteen. 

The closest thing he could think about calling them was Sci-Fi war machines but even that felt like some kind of injustice. Sure they were only about what- Ten inches tall? 

“Souda. What the fuck?” Hajime threw his hands to them, gesturing with absolute confusion and horror. 

“They’re my trains!” Souda gestured to them with pride. “When I was young, I had always wanted this set of trains but I was never able to settle on asking for them, so I kinda just let it become one of those childhood wishes.”

“So you made them into war machines?” Hajime knew his voice cracking, the old habit of puberty helping him lose his absolute shit. These things had lasers on them and things that looked guns. 

Oh. The foundation was going to be pissed. Actual weapons being built on the island by the ultimate mechanic? Naegi or whoever was going to be thoroughly disappointed in all of them. And that was a punishment worse than death. 

More concerned than when he had to explain that the reason a minor explosion of confetti and whatever the hell else stuck to Hajime's calps months after happened in that barn was that Hiyoko is a little shit who should not be allowed chemistry textbooks or anything that isn’t heavily supervised. 

“Listen, they’re not war machines. Let me finish my story, Hajime. I know you’re very excited at my amazing creation.” Souda took a breath. “So, I was lying on my bed, right. I had just jacked off and was trying to go to bed, but I just couldn’t. I was filled with motivation and productivity, but what should I use it on? 

Souda walked to his more polished desk, a writing desk, piled to the brim with loose papers, mugs, and plates. He picked up a leather notebook, grinning at it. 

“Well, I’ve been using this old journal for when I’m super tired but an idea just won’t stop bugging me. I flipped to the back page and I found these old drawings I did as a kid of the trains. My brain just kinda latched onto the memory.” 

Souda walked over to his display table, picking one up from the underside. “I finished one in a single night, but that wasn’t enough. So, I cranked out fourteen more.”

Hajime looked at the pink train in Souda’s hand. It was the smallest out of all of them, compact and not even train like whatsoever. 

“You may now praise me for my handsome work, bro.” 

Hajime ran a hand through his hair. 

“Is this what you’ve been doing for the past few days?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grammar and spelling mean nothing to me right now. Neither does quality.


End file.
